


Set My Spirit Free

by AllTheseLittleWritings



Series: Moments Passing In Front Of Me [2]
Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Death, Fluff, Gay Sex, Ghosts, Harry is like a flower, London, Louis doesn't believe Harry's there, Love, M/M, Memories, Missing, New York, letting go
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-27
Updated: 2016-01-27
Packaged: 2018-05-16 18:01:53
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,230
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5835436
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AllTheseLittleWritings/pseuds/AllTheseLittleWritings
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <cite>“Louis, please look at me. I miss your eyes,” Harry says with his soft echoing voice. </cite>
</p><p><cite>“I can’t look at you because you aren’t real,” Louis says back to him. </cite><br/>-<br/>Louis has to get used to living alone without Harry. But it's not that easy to let go.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Set My Spirit Free

**Author's Note:**

> Hiiii everyone! So a while back a lovely reader [Ladyinbooks](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ladyinbooks/pseuds/Ladyinbooks) asked me to write a sequel for 'Wake Me Up'. Here it is!  
> And it's a bit longer than I first thought :D

1 month after

 

”You won’t believe what happened at work today!” Louis says as soon as he comes in through the door. It’s silent, dust particles floating in the air. It’s grey. So grey and cold. 

“You remember Anna, the woman in our media team?” Louis toes off his shoes, the soles leaving muddy markings on the floor. 

“You remember us having that small gathering here? And we talked how she clearly isn’t the marrying kind when her boyfriend told us he’s going to propose to her?” Louis’ words flow out from his mouth. His muscles ache, a long day at work behind him. He can’t even remember why it was such a long day. Why he went to the office at 7am. Now he only knows that he’s tired and in need of a cup of tea. 

 

“Well, he did propose to her and guess what! Anna is getting married! Can you believe!” Louis laughs, the sound empty, his voice echoing against the walls. The air stands still, no one laughing with him. 

“Harry?” Louis walks through the house, his eyes searching for the brown cloud of curls and green eyes with a twinkle in the corner. 

But there’s no curls. No eyes. No laughter. No whispers. No hands welcoming Louis home. No one.

 

Then it hits Louis. Why he went to work so early today. Why he hasn’t been sleeping properly for the past month. Why he is trying to keep his thoughts somewhere else. Why his home is so cold. So grey. 

Harry isn’t here. He never will. 

 

Louis’ thoughts drift away from Anna and her engagement ring. He is never going to offer something like that to Harry. Louis knows they would’ve gotten married someday. He would’ve wanted to propose to Harry and give him his everything. Louis knows Harry would’ve beamed with his dimpled smile. 

But now… It’s just Louis’ imagination that can bring Harry back. It’s just his imagination that can paint these moments in his head. 

With slouched shoulders and his mind heavy, Louis drags his feet into the living room. With a lazy sigh, he falls on the couch. His eyes stare at the same spot, the same TV screen which he has been staring for the past month. His heart beats heavily. Louis can feel the thumping in his ears. It’s almost like his heart would be giving up. 

 

The light turns darker. The walls come closer. Louis’ fingers turn colder. He stretches his arm out, his fingers grasping the remote control. He switches the TV on. 

A familiar face flashes on the screen. His smile is like a breath of life for Louis. Harry’s smile. Louis’ chest tightens, an unpleasant feeling spreading across his lungs. With shaky hands he presses play and Harry comes alive. 

 

“Where are we?” Louis asks behind the camera. 

“We are in Nice, by the sea,” Harry smiles. The sun is shining directly at his face, his hair whipping around his head. 

“We’re having lunch here and we just ordered,” Harry leans a little closer towards the lens. 

“Let me share a secret with you,” Harry smiles cheekily. 

“Even though I ordered this beautiful salad, I’m still going to steal some of my boyfriend’s French fries because they have to be better here,” Harry whispers loudly to the camera. Louis snickers behind the lens, his hand shaking slightly. Harry leans back, a smug look on his face. 

 

“I’m going to make sure you’re not going to steal all of my food,” Louis points out, his voice drowning into a gust of wind. Harry raises his brows at Louis, telling him that Harry is clearly not making any promises. Harry starts to laugh, with his mouth open and his eyes squeezed shut. 

Louis presses pause. He watches the beautiful man on the screen. The trip to Nice was their last. They were supposed to go to Florence next, but they didn’t get the chance. 

 

Louis plays the video again. And again. Again. Again. He listens to Harry’s voice, he tries to memorize it. He tries to imagine the voice even closer. He tries to remember how Harry felt. 

But it’s already been too long. He’s starting to forget. 

The only thing he can do is play the video over and over again and imagine Harry there with him. 

 

“That day was a good day,” Harry says next to Louis. His voice echoes inside Louis’ head, but the feeling of Harry’s thigh pressing against Louis’ seems so real, that he has to tear his eyes away from the TV screen. 

“It was,” Louis agrees silently. His voice fills with tears, his heart pumping blood so fast that he can feel his skin tingling. 

“I wish we could go back to that day,” Harry watches the paused video, his eyes filled with the light from the screen. 

“Me too,” Louis is too afraid to look at the creation of his imagination next to him. He’s afraid Harry is just going to leave again. 

“Will you stay and watch these videos with me?” Louis asks, a glint of hopefulness in his voice. 

“I’m going to be here as long as you want me to be here, Louis,” Harry agrees, his touch getting more and more real against Louis. 

He doesn’t fight back, when Harry drapes his arm over Louis’ shoulder. 

 

\- - - -

 

4 months later

 

Bombings in east. People dying. People succeeding. Cities growing. Cities exploding into pieces. That’s what the newspaper keeps saying to Louis. He reads the current events with curious eyes. His eyes skim the dirty, grey paper slowly, taking in all the pictures and the unfortunate splatters of ink. 

 

“Why won’t you look at me?” Harry’s voice echoes in Louis’ ears. He’s standing by the stove. He has a cup of tea in his hands, his calm eyes trying to attract Louis’ attention. But Louis isn’t going to give up, he isn’t going to look up and meet that gaze. 

“Louis, I know you can hear me,” Harry keeps persuading him. But to no avail. 

 

The news turn blurry. They mix with each other, Louis can’t grasp any of the information anymore. He hears Harry’s steps getting closer. He hears how Harry drags the chair out for himself, and sits down. Louis keeps his eyes on the paper, his hand trembling around his warm mug of tea. 

“Louis, please look at me. I miss your eyes,” Harry says with his soft echoing voice. 

“I can’t look at you because you aren’t real,” Louis says back to him. Now he’s talking with his imagination. It doesn’t look good. Not at all. Louis has been thinking about getting help. 

He has searched for groups where people can mourn with others. Support groups, as they are called. But for some reason he doesn’t want to go there. He doesn’t want to stop this, whatever it is. 

 

Harry doesn’t answer. Louis can’t hear if he’s still there, sitting on the other side of the table. Louis doesn’t want to look up either, he doesn’t want to be disappointed if Harry isn’t there anymore. 

“I’m as real as you want me to be,” a sweet sound says after a while. Louis’ eyes freeze to read one word over and over again. ‘Government’. That’s what the newspaper keeps telling Louis when he’s trying to keep reality and imagination separate. But for some reason it’s getting impossible. 

“Please, look at me Louis. I want to see your face,” Harry keeps asking, when Louis doesn’t lift his eyes. 

“No,” Louis says back. It aches to say no to the person who he misses the most in this world. But he knows that Harry isn’t real anymore. What would he face? Nothing, that’s what he would see. The voice he keeps hearing isn’t here. It’s not Harry. 

 

Louis tries to keep reading the news, when a hand reaches out to touch his arm. Louis’ skin raises with goose bumps, shivers running up and down his spine, like he was being slowly electrocuted. His chest tightens, the uneasy feeling spreading all around his body. 

“Louis, I’m asking you to look at me. Could you please do that? For me?” Harry goes on persistently, he’s not going to stop asking. Not until Louis makes a decision. Not until Louis actually decides if Harry is real or not. 

Louis’ eyes glint under his lashes. Slowly he takes in the man sitting opposite him. Harry smiles, his dimples slowly coming to view. Louis’ breath catches in his throat, the tightness in his body disappearing as he exhales all the air from his lungs. 

“Hi,” Harry’s voice is only a whisper. Louis doesn’t answer him, when tears burst from his eyes. Harry stands up and moves to hold Louis in his arms. He doesn’t want to see Louis breaking more apart. He doesn’t want to see Louis turning to someone unrecognisable. 

But Harry knows that Louis will never be the same person ever again. 

 

“Are you really here?” Louis asks against Harry’s chest. He fists Harry’s shirt in his palms and pulls Harry closer. 

“I’m here as long as you want me to be,” Harry reassures him.

Louis’ breathing turns calmer, his tears stop and the salty rivers from his eyes dry out. He wants Harry to be here. He’s going to hold onto Harry. He’s going to keep Harry here. With him. 

 

\- - - -

 

8 months later

 

Louis watches the TV, leaning his head to his hand. 

“Have you watched this before?” Lottie asks with a gentle voice. She sits on the other end of the couch, almost like she’s afraid to be near Louis. To touch her own brother. 

“Don’t think so,” Louis mutters, knowing that he hasn’t seen the show before. Amateur chefs are cooking something for Michelin star restaurant owners and food critics, wanting to be like them someday. Louis can’t even remember when he actually watched something from the TV other than the videos Harry left him. 

Harry is here now too, sitting on an armchair closest to Louis. He’s enjoying himself, gripping the chair when someone cuts themselves during a challenge or falls when they’re trying to rush to their work station. Louis’ eyes keep drifting to Harry, trying to prove that he’s not there. But Harry looks real, too real.

 

“Is it interesting?” Lottie tilts her head questioningly, her eyes warm and calm. Louis rips himself out of his dream world, meeting Lottie’s gaze. 

“Yeah, it’s good,” Louis agrees, his lips twitching upwards into an unhappy smile. Lottie reaches her hand towards him, Louis taking it into his. They keep watching the show but Louis gets lost in his own thoughts. 

 

How can he see Harry? Is something wrong? Maybe Harry being here means that Louis is sick. Maybe he’s dying too. Harry’s eyes slowly turn to look at Louis, a warm smile on his face. He shakes his head, as if he’s answering Louis. 

“Nice to see her visiting you so often,” Harry says with his echoing voice. It fades slowly, ringing in Louis’ ears long after Harry has already closed his mouth. 

 

In the end, the food the people on the TV are making, makes Lottie hungry. She’d want to make something but Louis is too tired to even think about making food. If Harry was here, really here, he’d make them food. Something easy, something that’s almost a guilty pleasure. 

But now Harry is following silently after them, his hand gently on Louis’ lower back. He sits down on a chair by the dining table. He watches the siblings as they’re trying to decide where they should get food from. He’s suggesting places to Louis, a pizzeria where they always called when they wanted a really good pizza. Or a Chinese place where Harry always enjoyed going. 

Lottie wants pizza. Louis calls, Lottie sitting on the kitchen counter, swinging her legs in the air. She watches Louis, who’s watching in to an empty space in front of him. 

 

“Lou?” Lottie asks, when he’s ordered the food. 

“Hmm?” Louis turns towards her, his hip leaning against the counter. 

“Have you thought about dating others?” Lottie decides to be straight forward. She knows this has been a hard time for her brother but maybe there is a chance that he needs a distraction. 

“What! No,” Louis’ brows scrunch together, almost as if he’s offended by the question. 

“I mean, it’s been a while already. I’m just worried that you’ll end up alone,” Lottie tries to reason but Louis turns away. His eyes find that dead space by the dining table, never leaving that one spot. She knows she hurt him. 

 

“I don’t care if I won’t find anyone anymore,” Louis says coldly. 

“But you have to move on eventually,” Lottie reaches her hand and touches Louis’ shoulder. He moves away, crossing his arms in front of his chest. 

“Well now’s not the time. I don’t want to move on, not yet,” Louis clenches his teeth together, his eyes blinking slowly. Lottie jumps down from the counter, standing in front of him. She puts her hands on his shoulders, demanding him to look at her. 

“I don’t mean that you have to move on now. But someday you have to move on, even you know that. I didn’t mean to hurt you and I’m sorry,” she apologises, wrapping her arms around her brother. Louis hugs her back and leans his head against her shoulder. 

“I forgive you,” he says, as his eyes never leave Harry’s. But Harry leaves them. He walks out, giving a weak smile to Louis before he’s gone.

 

\- -

 

Louis lays in bed. The night swallows the warm light that streams from the lamp on the nightstand. He can’t sleep without the lights on, he’s become scared of the night. It’s tragic that a grown man is afraid of the dark. It almost makes him laugh. But he merely smiles when he shakes his head to the thought. 

Louis can see the shadow which Harry creates as he comes in. He walks slowly, sadness weighing his shoulders down.

 

“You know it too,” Harry says quietly, as he sits on the bed. He keeps his hands between his knees, almost like they were cold. Louis turns onto his side so he can see Harry better. But Harry keeps facing the window. 

“I know what?” Louis wants to hear Harry speaking. 

“That you have to move on someday. That you have to let go eventually,” Harry’s lifeless green eyes meet Louis’. They are almost like mirrors for Louis’ eyes, he is certain his eyes are as dead as Harry’s. 

“But I don’t want to move on,” coldness spreads across Louis’ chest with the normal tightness. 

“I want you to move on, Louis. I don’t want you to be as broken as you are now in ten years. I want you to be happy,” Harry smiles sadly, his eyes welling with tears. 

“I was happy with you and now you’re here,” Louis fights back. 

“You know I won’t be here forever. And this is not life for you, this is torture.” 

 

Louis has to think about Harry’s words for a moment. Does it mean that he has to leave someday, that Harry won’t be here, talking with Louis in the early hours of morning when Louis can’t sleep. Or he won’t be holding Louis, when he’s watching the videos Harry created. Even though it’s not much, Harry is still here. And Louis doesn’t want to let go. Even when it means he’d turn into a crazy person. He’s just not ready to let go. 

“I’m here as long as you need me. But I want you to find someone by your side, who you could be at least a little bit happy, like you were happy with me,” Harry’s skin glows in the dim light. His presence calms Louis, it makes him want to live for another day. 

 

“Louis?” Lottie’s voice asks from the doorway. 

“Why’re you up?” Louis scares, his eyes finding his sleepy sister standing by the door. Her eyes squint in the light, her blond hair in a high bun. 

“I heard you talking and I wanted to come and see if you’re alright,” she walks in to the room. Louis’ eyes drift to the space where Harry was sitting and finds it now empty. 

 

“Yeah, I had a dream… I guess I woke myself up too,” Louis lifts the corner of the duvet, Lottie crawling in. They keep the heat between their bodies, her hand finding Louis’. 

“I’ve never heard you speaking in your sleep,” she remarks, her eyes closing. 

“I guess it’s a new thing,” Louis whispers, Lottie already falling back to sleep. Her hand stays in Louis’ hand, deep sleep taking her away. 

 

Louis watches her, keeping all the monsters away so she can sleep peacefully. Like when he was still living at home and Lottie was just a little girl. He stayed up to keep her safe, when she had seen nightmares. 

He always held her when she walked into his room in the middle of the night and was afraid of the ghosts under her bed. It still feels the same, even when Lottie is a young woman now and she’s starting her own life. 

 

“Goodnight Louis,” he can hear Harry’s whisper. Louis finds him sitting on a chair in the corner, a calm smile on his face. 

“Sleep, I’ll make sure you’re safe,” Harry whispers. He stands up and walks closer. His fingertips touch Louis’ cheek, the pads tracing a line gently against Louis’ lower lip. Louis’ breathing shivers in his body, his eyes wide and innocent. 

Harry sits down by his side, his hand stroking Louis’ back. The touch makes Louis feel sleepy for the first time in a while. He feels like he hasn’t slept at all since the accident. His breathing calms down, his eyes falling shut. 

The room turns dark, as the light switches off. Louis feels Harry’s hand on his back even though he’s pretty sure he’s already fallen asleep. The touch is feather light, but it’s still there. The familiarity and safeness is everything Louis holds on to. And in a long time, he actually sleeps peacefully. 

 

\- - - -

 

12 months later

 

Louis is watching the videos again. There Harry is, on the TV screen, alive and laughing. It brings a smile to Louis’ lips and tears to his eyes. Harry is talking about the flowers in their garden. 

“I know you’re not going to take care of them Lou, so please hire a gardener!” Harry laughs to the lens, his eyes sparkling. 

“I was right, you have to admit it,” Harry says next to Louis. He is keeping his distance, as Louis has told him. For the past month he’s wanted Harry to be gone. And at the same time he wants Harry to be closer than ever. He has told Harry to keep his distance, but Harry is still here, making Louis laugh an empty laugh. 

Harry is here bringing tears to Louis’ eyes when he remembers Harry isn’t really here. Harry is here reminding Louis what he lost. 

 

“You were right,” Louis sighs, the late autumn sunset invading through the windows and blinding Louis. The video keeps on playing, Harry talking about the bees in the garden. 

“Even though you’d want them to be gone, don’t kill the bees. They’re here to pollinate the flowers and then we’ll have more flowers,” Harry speaks to the camera as if he’s a biologist talking to a group of young children. 

 

“Did you hire a gardener?” Harry asks, standing up and walking towards the windows to see the garden. Disappointment takes over his face. The weeds have taken over the flowerbeds, the beautiful blooms trying to survive in the middle of the greenery. 

“At least you got someone to mow our lawn,” Harry shakes his head. 

“Lottie’s been here a few times,” Louis answers, his head telling him to be angry. Very angry. 

 

“You know, you’re the one who died, remember!” Louis yells, his loud voice surprising even himself. Harry turns around, the playful smile on his face fading. 

“You’re the one who hit his head and died! And now you’re telling me to take care of our garden which I know nothing about!” Louis rages on, his eyes flaming and his blood pumping in his veins. He feels alive and it actually feels almost good to have some other feeling rushing though his body other than sadness. 

“Why are you still here? I don’t want you here! I want you gone! You’re not supposed to be here!” 

The rage in Louis’ eyes pours over Harry. His breathing is out of control, even his hands are shaking. Louis clenches them into tight fists and opens them again. 

“Okay,” is the only thing Harry says, before he leaves Louis alone. 

Louis watches him walk out of the living room. He can’t hear Harry’s steps or see where he goes. But as soon as Harry is gone, the rage is replaced with confusion. The burning heat in his body is replaced with the cold of being alone. 

 

“Harry?” Louis asks timidly. When he doesn’t get an answer, he understands Harry really left. Harry isn’t here anymore. And Louis asked him to leave in the most horrible way. He didn’t want to yell like that, he didn’t mean to. 

“Harry?” Tears fall from Louis’ eyes. No answer. He hides his face to his hands, knowing that he’s now completely alone. He didn’t mean to push Harry away like that. He didn’t mean to. But he did. He’s alone. Harry’s not coming back. And Louis misses Harry. 

 

Harry’s laughter echoing from the TV makes Louis’ insides ache. It makes him feel like his heart is going to explode in his chest. In a way he hopes for it. The only thing he wants is to be with Harry. Even watching him talking about flowers, that he loved so much for some reason, makes Louis want to fall asleep and never wake up. 

He never realised how much he misses Harry. But now he understands and the silence is deafening. The silence in his body is deafening. There’s nothing that could make Louis want to stay alive anymore. And it’s just because he’s lost something so important to him. 

Louis turns off the TV. He can’t listen to Harry’s voice, not now. Not when he knows that it’s not coming from next to him. Even though it would’ve only been in Louis’ head, still hearing Harry speak or seeing him sitting by the dining table or standing by Louis in the bathroom when he’s brushing his teeth meant that he is here. Now he’s not and Louis doesn’t know how to deal with it. 

 

Louis starts to walk around the house, his and Harry’s home. It feels so empty now when he’s alone. Tomorrow it’ll be a year since… Since Harry’s been gone. Louis doesn’t want to be alone. But he knows that he is. He walks up the stairs, seeing the accident over and over again in his head. How Harry landed at the bottom of the stairs and… 

Louis feels like he’s floating. He can hear Harry calling for him in his head, the last word he ever said when he was still here. He can hear Harry’s distorted voice. He can see Harry’s body breaking apart and dying in front of his own eyes. Dying in his arms. 

Louis swallows down the lump that’s about to choke him. Louis’ hands sweat, his feet tremble. He walks towards the bedroom, where was his and Harry’s last happy moment. He pushes the door open, his feet freezing. 

 

Harry’s sitting on the bed, waiting for Louis. 

“I was wondering how long it’d take for you to come here,” Harry says quietly. Louis steps inside, closing the door after him. His insides twist into a knot when he realises what Harry’s wearing. The light blue shirt. Only clad in his black briefs. 

“If it wouldn’t have happened, what would you’ve done to me?” Harry asks, inviting Louis closer. He steps between Harry’s legs, gripping his shoulders. He squeezes them, the muscles loose under Harry’s skin. Harry’s hands rub the backs of Louis’ thighs, his green eyes blazing. 

 

“I thought you were gone,” Louis whispers, his heart fluttering in his chest like it would leave him soon. 

“I’m not going to leave you until you really want me gone,” Harry smiles reassuringly, calming Louis’ insides. 

 

“You know, this is the first time you’re actually touching me,” Harry remarks with a smirk. 

“What, no it’s not!” Louis fights back, not understanding Harry’s words. 

“Yeah, it is. This is the first time you’re touching me after I… came back.” 

 

The words hit Louis like a ton of bricks. Because Harry’s right. He’s been avoiding the touches, he hasn’t touched Harry. Not unless it was Harry who approached him. It has been Harry all this time making all those little touches happen. All the little kisses against the back of Louis’ neck. The nightly cuddles so Louis could sleep. 

“I’m sorry,” is the only thing Louis can say. 

“I know you are,” Harry’s hands squeeze Louis’ upper thighs, the soft flesh just under his buttocks. 

 

“Now, tell me, what would’ve happened if I wouldn’t have slipped in the stairs,” Harry demands with his bedroom eyes and soft smile. 

“You can’t ask me that,” Louis’ cheeks blush, his head lolling back. 

“Of course I can, I know that you think about it too,” Harry pulls Louis closer, Harry’s chin leaning against Louis’ stomach. 

“I… I don’t know… I…” Louis stutters, his eyes falling back to Harry’s. His hands cradle Harry’s head, his curls between Louis’ fingers. Harry’s green eyes look happy, sparkling like he’d have streams flowing through them. 

 

“Don’t be shy,” Harry laughs gently, his palms massaging Louis’ thighs. Louis feels like his body is on fire, the touch sending vibrations through his muscles and bones. His blood streams wildly, his stomach filling with butterflies. 

“I would’ve…” Louis leans down, his forehead falling slowly against Harry’s. 

“I would’ve kissed you hard, just the way you want me to,” Louis’ lips touch Harry’s. It sends sparks through Louis’ mind. 

 

“I would’ve made you close your eyes in ecstasy, I would’ve held you close, I would’ve made you scream out in pleasure, I would’ve touched you, I would’ve made you moan, I would’ve whispered things into your ear,” Louis keeps on going. 

As he introduces the things to Harry with his breathy voice and shaky hands, Harry squeezes his thighs even harder. The touch makes Louis want to throw Harry onto his back and crawl on top of him. But this isn’t real. 

 

“Why won’t you do that now?” Harry whispers with his eyes closed. 

“I can’t really do that, can I?” Louis questions, his jaw clenching. He drags it against Harry’s cheek, smelling the familiar scent Harry has. 

“You can do as much as you want Louis, you just have to believe,” Harry tells him, his hungry eyes opening to look at Louis. They meet the deep blue in Louis’ eyes, finding the sadness and the brokenness. 

He wants to hold Louis here, close to him, make him feel better and wipe the sorrow away. Louis swallows hard as he slowly stands back up, but something flames in his eyes. He watches Harry closely, trying to find clues in him, in his eyes, in his soul. 

He tries to find the truth, the real life, if this is reality. He wants to know that Harry is there, that he’s not holding on to nothing. He wants to know that this isn’t just a fantasy where he gets to be with Harry one last time. 

 

“I want you Louis, please, I beg you to want me too,” Harry pleads, the simmering glow of lust in his eyes never giving up. Louis bends back down, kissing Harry tentatively, trying to figure out if he’s creating this all in his head.

Harry kisses him back, his hands travelling up to Louis’ cheeks and holding the warm skin between his palms. He strokes Louis’ temples with his thumbs, his hands sweating. He leans down, Louis following. His hands hold on to Harry’s shoulders as he straddles Harry. Louis’ hands try to find the truth from Harry’s body, he tries to prove that he’s imagining it all. But his hands meet hot flesh, muscles and his face is hit with Harry’s frantic breaths. He can’t prove Harry isn’t here. 

 

Louis gives Harry his all. He promises to love Harry for eternity. He holds Harry so close that it’s almost suffocating. But it doesn’t feel wrong, it doesn’t feel like this is the last time. Harry breathes words into Louis’ ear, the green in his eyes never dying down. Harry’s eyes never let Louis go, they demand Louis’ attention. 

With Louis’ forehead against Harry’s, his strong arms keeping Harry safe, his sweaty body making sure Harry feels good the whole time, he makes love to the man he misses so much. He feels the memories push through his mind and he feels Harry there, laughing breathily as his heels dig into Louis’ lower back. Louis can feel the burning all over his body, his muscles shaking and making him slow down. 

Harry lifts his chin to connect his lips with Louis’ before he turns them around. The sheets stick to their clammy skin, the fabric moist and hot. Harry kisses all the spots he can from his position, his hands holding Louis down by his palms. They entwine their fingers together, the sound of skin slapping against each other and breathy moans filling the air. Harry’s warm breath keeps Louis’ senses alive and his eyes open, looking straight into his desires that is Harry. 

 

The air is humid and dark and filled with love and lust. They lie in each other’s arms, Harry cradling Louis against his chest. 

“I want you to be happy, Louis,” Harry says with his low voice. Louis can feel it tremble in Harry’s chest, towards Louis heart. He’s looking at Harry, seeing how he glows in the dark moonlight. He can see the curls that have stuck to his forehead. Louis lifts his hand and strokes them away. 

“I’m happy, I’m happy here with you,” Louis tilts his head, a small smile on his lips. 

“You also know that this happiness isn’t real,” Harry remarks, the pads of his fingers drawing something onto Louis’ skin. Louis stays silent, still trying to prove himself that Harry is real. He can feel Harry under him, he can hear his voice. But then he feels it. There’s nothing beating under his palms. There’s no pounding inside Harry’s chest. 

 

“You’re not real,” Louis says quietly, his eyes filling with sadness. Harry mirrors the look into his own eyes, the green turning grey, almost black and white. 

“No, I’m not,” Harry whispers back, his arms squeezing Louis closer. 

“Why do I keep seeing you then? How can I feel you? How can I hear your voice? How can I look into your eyes?” Louis’ voice turns from patient to frustrated, his mind doing flips. How can this not be real if he can be here in Harry’s arms?

“Because you still believe,” Harry’s calmness streams into Louis’ body, making sure everything is okay. 

“In what?”

“In love.” 

 

When Harry says it, that Louis believes in love, explicitly in his and Harry’s love, he knows that this is it. That this will be one of the last goodbyes he can say to the love of his life. But if his love for Harry can keep Harry here, why couldn’t he just keep Harry here. Why couldn’t Louis keep Harry here in his arms, in his life, in his heart? 

“Because it’s not life, Louis. Someday you have to go out and meet new people, meet the person who you’re going to love for the rest of your life. You know that too,” Harry talks slowly, wanting Louis to hear every word he’s saying. 

 

“I want to stay here with you, I love you so much that it hurts. I don’t want anyone else in my life,” Louis fights back, coolly trying to say the things he has in his heart. 

“But at some point you’ll realise that I’m not really here. You realise that you can’t leave the house anymore, just because you don’t want to go anywhere because I can’t be there with you. And I don’t accept that. You have to live, you have to be happy because you actually are. I don’t want your heart to turn cold, I don’t want you to become a shell of someone who only lives when his dead boyfriend is around.” 

“I’m not going to stick around for the rest of your life. I’ll grow tired too. I’ll become a ghost, who, in the end, even you can’t see. I’ll become a whisper in the night who you can’t touch. I’m here as long as you need me, but when you realise that you can live with the yearning, I’ll be gone. And I don’t want you to end up alone in this world.” 

Harry’s words hit Louis like icy daggers. 

 

“So you’ll just leave some day?” Louis asks. He rests his head against Harry’s silent chest. 

“Yes,” Harry whispers. He can feel Louis’ tears hit his chest, the burning tears like fire against his skin. 

“But now when I’m still here, I’m going to hold you. And I’m not going to go anywhere,” Harry reassures, trying to give Louis at least some relief. His words hang in the air as Louis clutches himself closer. He closes his eyes, trying to imagine a beating heart inside Harry’s chest. The vibrating sound against the shell of his ear. The sound giving him safety. As he’s finally drifting to sleep, he can hear the sound. Only a faint sound, but it’s still there. 

 

\- - - -

 

19 months after

 

“Harry!” Louis comes home. His voice echoes against the walls, the sun shining in from every window. He toes off his shoes when he hangs his coat to a hanger. 

“Harry!” He calls again. Usually Harry is here, waiting for Louis. But this time he’s not walking around the corner with a smile on his face. He’s not sitting in the living room, reading one of his favourite books of poetry. This time he’s not here welcoming Louis home. 

“Harry!” Louis stops to listen, hearing a bird singing in the garden. He walks into the living room, finding the backdoor ajar. Harry stands in the middle of the garden, his face towards the sky. His skin is pale, his eyes paler. 

 

“Here you are,” Louis smiles, walking to him and hugging Harry against his chest. Harry’s weak arms wrap around Louis, his face nuzzling against Louis’ neck. 

“How was work today?” Harry asks with his echoing voice. Louis can hear the birds singing clearly, Harry’s voice travelling away with the wind. He looks different, something’s changed. 

“I have news,” Louis says, his eyes tentative and his voice calm. 

“I’ve been offered a promotion,” he says, Harry’s face lighting up. 

“I’m so proud of you baby, congratulations,” Harry says quietly, hugging Louis against his chest again. 

“The job is in New York,” Louis swallows as he eyes Harry through his lashes. Harry thinks about his words for a moment, searching something in Louis’ eyes. He can see the glinting excitement in them, something that Louis hasn’t had in his eyes for a long time. 

 

“Well what are you going to do?” He asks, Louis dropping his gaze towards the ground. 

“I really want to take it, it’s everything that I’ve wanted. I’d get so much more responsibility, they’d pay me an apartment there from a very good area. And the job would last at least three years,” Louis looks back into Harry’s eyes. They are calm and grey, not the green they were a few months ago. 

His whole posture has changed. His shoulders are slouched and his hair has turned from deep brown into a cloudy shade. The man Louis is holding isn’t Harry anymore. 

 

“Then you should take it,” Harry smiles weakly, but his eyes stay confident. Louis hugs him close, trying to smell the familiar scent. It’s not there. 

“You sure?” Louis asks against Harry’s chest. 

“Yes, I want you to be happy and if this makes you happy, then you should take the job,” Harry’s breathy whispers flow into Louis’ ears. Louis nods, a smile sprawling across his lips. 

He opens his eyes to see the love of his life. But when the blue eyes don’t meet the faded green but emptiness, he knows that this is it. He’s letting go. And so is Harry. 

The garden is in full bloom, strong colours splashed across the flowerbeds. He finally hired a gardener, who managed to bring everything back to life. The flowers remind Louis of the real Harry who was here not that long ago. The colours are like Harry, vibrant and making everything beautiful around them. Louis closes his eyes, sorrow taking over his body, the tightness making itself present once again. 

 

“I’ll be here wherever you’ll go,” Harry wraps his arms around Louis’ body from behind. 

The touch makes Louis lean his head back against Harry’s shoulder. He opens his eyes to find Harry already looking at him. His eyes are still clouded, but his hair is fluffy and dark, his skin tan and his arms strong. Louis breathes Harry in, recognizing the sweet smell. 

 

\- -

 

The night falls darkly around Louis and Harry. Louis tries to remember everything he’s had with Harry, the real life and the things that never were real. He tries to remember Harry’s breathing pattern, the way his hair feels in Louis’ hands, the way Harry’s hands feel against Louis’ body, the way Harry holds Louis the way no one can. He tries to remember Harry’s voice in his ears, the sweet whispers against his neck. He tries to remember the way Harry’s eyes shine in the darkness of the night. He tries to remember the exact shade of green.

He tries to remember so when he’s going to leave for New York tomorrow, he won’t miss this place so badly. 

 

“This is our last night together,” Harry whispers, the words shivering in the air. Louis’ skin rises with goose bumps. 

“And this is the moment when I have to leave you,” Harry continues, his arms holding Louis closer. His words vibrate against Louis’ shoulder, the cold air leaving his mouth like autumn air. 

“I have to keep on going, I have to see what’s on the other side,” Harry’s words hurt Louis’ insides as he’s just trying to hold onto the feeling of having Harry here. 

 

“I want you to be happy. I want you to do things that make you happy. I want you to live like you’d be living for the both of us. I want you to find someone who you can be happy with, someone who loves you at least as much as I do. I want you to fall in love again. I want you to feel safe in this world.” 

Harry’s words never stop. They’re like a prayer, wishes that don’t have an end. They are all for Louis and they make Louis’ heart ache and a lump rises to his throat. 

“And I wish you’d do the things we had planned to do but never had the chance. I wish you tell me about the things you see and experience in your dreams because I’ll be here. I promise to be here. I promise to be here in your heart. Even though you wouldn’t see me, I wish you keep me with you wherever you’ll go.” 

 

“I’ll love you forever,” Harry whispers into Louis’ ear, hugging him closer. Louis closes his eyes, clutching onto Harry and trying to keep him there. But Harry lets go and sits up. He faces the other way, his hand still in Louis’. 

“I love you,” Louis whispers, knowing that this will be the last time he’s going to hold Harry’s hand. This is Harry leaving for the last time. This is Harry setting his spirit free. This is Harry leaving the cage that his body has become. This is Harry finally being able to fly free. This is the end.

Harry turns around one last time, his smiling eyes and a dimpled smile making the room feel warm. He squeezes Louis’ hand, whispering “close your eyes” in to the night. Louis blinks the tears away from his eyes, holding onto Harry’s hand with both of his. He closes his eyes, feeling Harry’s lips on his for a sweet second, a bittersweet feeling hanging in the air. 

Louis opens his eyes, finding himself alone in their bedroom. The night swallows everything, the darkness is over powering. Louis puts the light on, searching around the room. 

“Harry?” He whispers. Harry isn’t here. He doesn’t answer, he doesn’t come forward from the shadows. 

 

Louis buries himself under the duvet. Harry’s smell is still in the sheets. He closes his eyes, trying to remember every memory he has of Harry. Every little quirk he had, every little detail in Harry that he knew. 

He knows he’s not going to get Harry back anymore. So he pretends he feels Harry’s arms around himself in the warm light streaming from the nightstand. 

 

\- - 

 

“Mooorningn,” Louis’ gentle voice says on the video. Harry’s curls are sprawled over a pillow, his naked upper body peeking under the duvet. 

“Mmmm,” Harry sighs, opening his eyes to see the camera in Louis’ hand. 

“Not yet,” Harry moans and crawls under the warm duvet. Louis follows behind, the lens finding Harry. He shields his face from the camera, but Louis reaches to take Harry’s hand into his. 

“I want to see your beautiful face,” Louis whispers cheerily. Harry smirks and reveals the other side of his face. A deep dimple forms on his cheek, a laugh bursting from his mouth. 

“Let’s wake up and go have brunch,” Louis enthuses quietly, Harry looking at him with happiness in his deep, sleepy green eyes. 

 

“What if I want to stay in bed for the rest of the day?” Harry asks, revealing the rest of his face. He smirks playfully, pulling Louis closer. Louis shrieks out a high fit of giggles, the camera falling from his hand. It lands on the mattress, still filming. Harry and Louis are upside down on the video, Harry holding Louis’ face between his palms. He drops kisses all over Louis’ face, finally giving one on Louis’ lips. He smirks and holds Louis close, his muffled laughter low and reminding Louis of the good times. 

Louis stops the video, looking at himself and Harry under the duvet. That time seems so far away now, like that was a dream, not the reality. He sees the crinkles next to Harry’s eyes. He can only wonder what Harry would’ve looked like in his fifties and his curls would’ve started to turn grey. He can only wonder what Harry would’ve been like with the kids they never had together. 

 

“Lou!” Lottie yells from outside. Louis stands up from the couch and takes the CD from the DVD player. He puts the CD in its case and tucks it into his shoulder bag. 

He sees the movers carrying brown cardboard boxes full of Louis and Harry’s things in to a truck, most of Harry’s things going to his parents. Louis kept only some of Harry’s favourite books and clothes with himself. He also kept the camera which Harry used to record everything in life with, safely wrapped inside a blanket. 

Louis takes slow steps towards the front door, seeing the empty walls and rooms. This has only turned into a place where a lot of things happened. 

 

“You ready to go to the airport?” Lottie takes Louis’ hand into hers, smiling brightly at him. A box with the title “Us” passes Louis in the hands of a large man. Us. Louis and Harry. That’s their life, in a box. Louis follows the man and the box with his gaze. 

The mover puts it carefully into the truck, as he sees the tape with “fragile” printed all over it. The man closes the doors of the truck, hitting them with his fist a couple of times. The truck and the box with all the memories leave for the airport, leaving Louis standing there in front of his old door. He looks back, the house filled with light and things that used to be. His heart pounds in his chest, making sure he’s alive. 

 

“Louis?” Lottie asks, squeezing Louis’ hand. Louis turns his focus on her, smiling gently.

“I am,” he says, the words coming out with a struggle. But he says them. He’s moving to New York, towards new memories he’d like to share with the man he truly still loves. 

Lottie leads them to his mother’s car. They sit inside, Louis clutching his shoulder bag with one of the DVDs inside. Louis’ mum starts talking about something, radio playing softly in the background. 

Louis looks back. The car starts, just when the last mover closes the door to the house after him. He makes sure the door is closed and then he climbs into his own car. Louis’ mum lets the man leave first before she starts driving them away. Lottie holds Louis’ hand, squeezing it lightly from time to time. 

 

Louis sees the house slowly staying further away, the garden peeking around the corner. The blooming flowers are like fire on the other side of the house, reminding Louis what he’s leaving behind. He knows he’s going to miss the flowers. Just because they are alive, just because they are like Harry was. He’s going to miss this place, he’s going to miss the things he had here. 

But he’s ready to let the darkness go. He’s ready to move on, even if it meant he’d still need to sleep with the lights on. He’s ready to live again, show Harry that he can be happy again. 

I’ll love you forever, plays in Louis’ mind as he turns to face the way they’re going. He squeezes his eyes shut, tears spilling from his eyes. The bittersweet goodbye is on repeat in his head, the words Harry said to him echoing in his head. 

 

“Louis?” Lottie asks quietly, concern in her voice. Louis opens his eyes, turning them towards his sister. 

“You okay?” She asks, her brows pinched together. Louis thinks about it for a moment. Is he okay?

“Yes,” he says after a while, knowing that he’s not lying to Lottie or himself. He’s okay, at least he’s better than he was a year ago. He’s okay and he’s going to live for him and for Harry. That’s what Harry would’ve wanted. 

Louis is okay and he’ll someday be happy again. He promises that to himself. And most importantly to Harry. He’s not going to break that promise. He’s not going to live his life pretending to be happy, but he’ll actually be happy. Louis promised that to the man he will always love, like he was still here. 

 

\- - - -

 

26 months later

 

“You know, I’ve always wondered what it would be like working in London. And now we have someone here who can actually tell us about it! Is it always rainy or cloudy, Louis?” Michelle asks, her eyes bright. 

She rolls pasta around a fork and brings it to her mouth. She manages to smile sophisticatedly even when her mouth is full. Louis looks at everyone around the table, trying to decide what he’d tell them. Dominic, Ted, Ramona, John, Michelle, Tony, Elisabeth and Aiden. 

“It’s not rainy all the time, or cloudy. The sun shines, especially during summer time,” Louis nods his head, smiling with his lips tight. 

“Ah! So it’s not like in the movies!” Michelle fires back instantly, washing her mouth with white wine. Louis feels his shoulders tensing, not knowing what he should say next. 

“C’mon, life’s not a movie,” Aiden saves Louis from speaking, his fingers lightly touching Louis’ outer thigh. His fingers are light, the pads tapping the muscle a few times before he pulls his hand back. Louis doesn’t know if he should look at him, slap him, run away, move away from him, say something to him or do the same thing back to him. 

 

“So Louis, do you have a girlfriend?” Tony asks, clearly curious. 

“Or a boyfriend!” He corrects himself, almost scaring himself with his loud voice. Louis feels his cheeks tinting pink. Everyone’s eyes are on him, invading his space, asking questions that are overwhelming. Going out for dinner with the people from work seemed like a good idea at first. But now Louis starts to regret it. They are nice, but they are getting too close. 

“Umm, no, no boyfriend,” Louis swallows, breathing out the air from his lungs with a silent sigh. Now he also came out to these strangers and it doesn’t feel that good. 

“Oooh!” The people around the table are like a choir. Louis sets his eyes towards the food in front of him, vegetables and chicken. Harry would’ve liked this. 

 

“So you broke up or..?” Ramona eyes him like he’s a zoo animal. Louis feels like his life is being dug out just to humour these people. His life is going to be on full display, here in a nice restaurant. His life is going to be scattered around the busy New York streets, the dark alleys and spread to shady strangers. 

“Actually my long-time boyfriend died two years and two months ago,” Louis smiles, suppressing the tears that almost form in his eyes. The people around the table go quiet. They don’t throw a new question for Louis, they don’t comment with a long sound of comforting aww’s. They stare at Louis, who feels his chest tightening. He misses home, his and Harry’s home. He misses the flowers in their garden. 

He misses Harry’s laugh. 

 

“I’m really sorry,” Aiden is the first one to speak. Louis turns his eyes to him, meeting the warmth in Aiden’s brown eyes. They’re almost black in the dim lighting. 

“Yeah, so am I,” Louis bites his teeth together. His insides are telling he’s had enough for the night. He’s ready to go home. To his apartment. He can’t call it home yet. 

He just wants to see the green eyes. He wants to hear the familiar laugh. He wants to see something that reminds him of the life he used to have. 

 

“I actually think I have to go,” Louis digs his jeans pocket for his wallet, getting out some cash to pay for his dinner. 

“I had a lovely time, thank you all,” Louis forces a smile out of himself and takes his jacket from the back of the chair. He’s gotten better at smiling, it’s actually reaching his eyes a bit more these days. 

“Let’s do this again some time,” he nods at everyone, standing up and placing his chair under the table again. Everyone are eyeing him, nodding and smiling softly. Louis knows that he shouldn’t have told these people about Harry. They don’t understand it, that’s why they’re acting like this. They don’t know how to react. 

“Bye,” Louis sighs, turns around and swiftly walks out of the restaurant. When he steps out onto the street, he takes a deep breath of the polluted New York air. People are everywhere, a constant buzz of people talking keeping the air filled with noise. Car lights blink in the distance, come closer and sweep past him. 

Louis puts his jacket on and starts to walk down the street. He stuffs his hands deep into his pockets to keep them warm. Different thoughts come to his mind, linger there for a moment and then leave. He’s enjoyed his time in New York, it’s nice to be around people. But sometimes it gets a bit too exhausting. Sometimes he’d like to be in complete silence. Sometimes he’d like to feel like he’s back in London, in his old house. But what would be there? Nothing. 

 

“Louis!” A voice startles Louis out of his thoughts. He looks around himself, turning around and seeing a man running towards him. For a moment his mind plays tricks on him, creating someone he misses the most. 

“Aiden,” Louis says when Aiden reaches him. Aiden smiles, breathing heavily. 

“You’re a fast walker,” Aiden points out panting. His cheeks are a little red from his sprinting. Louis raises his brows in acknowledgment, breathing out through his teeth. 

 

“Why are you here? Did I forget something?” Louis asks when Aiden isn’t saying anything. 

“No, I just felt really bad, so I wanted to come and see that you’re okay,” he says, tilting his head in sympathy. 

“Well, you reached me and I’m fine,” Louis looks elsewhere. He just wishes to be alone. 

“Is that like a regular answer for you? Whenever someone asks if you’re okay, you say you’re fine?” Aiden smiles, his eyes bright and colourfull in the city lights. Louis turns his gaze back to him, not knowing what to say. Ten points to Aiden for figuring that out. 

“You don’t have to answer if you don’t want to,” Aiden keeps on smiling, but it turns softer. Maybe Louis’ expression is enough of an answer to him anyway. 

 

“Can I walk you home or where ever you were going?” He presses. Louis stands there without the ability to speak. He’s not sure how he could say no to the man. 

“Sure,” Louis finally answers, taking a deep breath in. He tries to get out of his thoughts, he tries to stay here in the moment with Aiden. They walk slowly. Louis takes in the surroundings, watching the people that pass him by and the stores that line the streets. Everyone are so busy. He wouldn’t be surprised if everyone started running just because they are always on the move. 

Aiden keeps quiet, his face smiling as he walks with his head held high. His sand coloured hair looks like it’s been styled by a professional. Maybe he goes to get his hair done every morning, so he can look like he belongs in the city. 

 

“So, have you moved here from somewhere?” Louis asks, the silence getting a bit too much for his liking. 

“Nope, born and raised in New York,” Aiden says proudly. 

“We don’t have to talk if you don’t want to,” Louis looks up at Aiden, nodding at his words. They keep on walking along the street. Just a few more blocks and he’ll be home. He’s already choosing the DVD in his head he’s going to replay tonight. 

 

“Can I ask you something about… the man?” Aiden asks tentatively. He seems nervous, unsure if Louis will answer. Louis thinks about it for a moment. What could he even ask? Aiden will never know who Harry really was, he’s never going to understand what kind of a person Harry was. They’re never going to meet. 

“Go ahead then,” Louis’ shoulders tense. He keeps breathing calmly, but talking about Harry with someone isn’t something that he does out of pleasure. 

“What was his name?” Aiden asks, his voice shaking as he pronounces the words. 

“Harry,” Louis tells him. He’s already dreading the flow of questions that could bounce out from Aiden’s mouth. 

“He was a lucky guy to have someone like you in his life,” Aiden says and offers a shy smile at Louis. That is the line that always makes Louis’ blood turn from cold to boiling. He’s managed to keep his thoughts to himself, but for some reason he can’t control his mouth tonight. 

 

“You have no right to say something like that!” Louis stops and yells. Aiden turns to face Louis with his whole body, the happy expression dropping. 

“You didn’t know me or him, you have no idea what we were like together. You have no right to tell me how lucky he, or I was when he was still…” Louis eyes drift from Aiden to a man that walks past them. 

He’s looking straight into Louis’ eyes, a familiar green glinting in them. Brown curls flow around his head as he walks with confident steps. His calm smile tells Louis to take a deep breath in. Louis follows the man with his gaze. The man disappears into the crowds. Louis tries to see the man again, but he’s gone. 

 

Louis turns back around, his eyes landing on a painting in a gallery that’s right next to him and Aiden. He looks at the painting, the colours bringing up some unexplainable memories. 

“Louis?” Aiden asks with cautious voice. Louis leaves him standing on the pavement and walks inside the gallery. A woman behind a counter greets him but lets him be. She doesn’t ask Louis if he’s searching for something specific or say that if he needs any help, she’ll be here. 

Aiden follows Louis inside, walking to him. Louis stands in front of the large painting. The colours are beautiful. Some of them are faded, some more vibrant and prominent. Louis stares at the work of art in awe, his lungs forgetting to breathe. He sees so much on that canvas, feeling like he’s travelling back in time. The lightest of blues colour the top of the painting, the shade turning darker and bringing out other hues. He looks at the painting and seeing the different colours brings up so many memories that he didn’t even know existed. 

The green mixing to the blooming reds and oranges and purples reminds Louis of Harry. It’s almost the exact same green as Harry’s eyes were. The eyes that were still alive. 

 

“Louis?” Aiden asks again. He’s not sure what he should do, but something drew Louis in and towards this particular painting. Louis wakes from his thoughts, his eyes flashing to Aiden. He looks like he’s been awaken from a dream. A dream which once was real for him. 

“Excuse me?” Louis turns round towards the woman by the counter. 

“Is that painting for sale?” He points towards the abstract art. 

“Yes, are you interested in buying?” 

“Yes,” Louis nods, his breathing flowing out of him in harsh bursts. 

“Okay, can I offer you home delivery?” She asks with her polite voice. 

“No, I’m going to buy it now and I’m also going to take it now,” Louis orders, not caring how rude he sounds. 

“O-okay, do you want to pay it in full or…” 

“Yes,” the woman can’t finish her sentence before Louis is already giving her his answer. He pays for the painting while Aiden keeps watching Louis. The woman takes the painting down, carrying it into the backroom. 

 

“Are you okay?” Aiden whispers to Louis. His eyes are confused and his brows are raised. Louis smiles at him and lets out a relieved breath. 

“Yeah, I’m fine,” Louis says. The words don’t sound as stiff as they might’ve sounded before. It’s almost like Louis believes them to be true. Aiden gives him a reserved smile and tries to figure out Louis. He’s known for a while now that Louis isn’t like the others at the office. He has something that sets him apart from everyone else Aiden has met before. 

 

They stand side by side in the bright gallery. Louis is almost bouncing on his feet, he just can’t keep still. They wait for the painting and when the woman emerges with the art wrapped in brown paper, Louis rushes forward and takes it from her. He carries it awkwardly, thanking the woman and wishing her a great rest of the evening. Aiden opens the door for him while Louis tries to keep the painting safe. 

“Aiden, I think I can go alone from here. I’ll see you at work,” Louis says, smiling and holding the painting tightly in his hands. 

“Okay, well I had a nice evening,” Aiden says, smiling and blinking a few times. 

“Me too, see you later! Bye!” Louis is already walking away, when Aiden says his goodbyes. He watches Louis disappear into the buzzing of the street, shaking his head. He’s trying to get rid of the thought of maybe liking Louis a bit more than just as a colleague. He turns to the other way, breathing out his nerves and walking home with butterflies in his stomach. 

 

\- -

 

Louis stands on his bed, his legs tired from standing on the soft mattress for so long. He’s supposed to wake up in three hours, but he hasn’t slept at all yet. 

The painting hangs on the wall above the bed. Louis is lost in the world of the colours and the shapes, having vivid dreams of Harry in his head while being wide awake. He can’t hear Harry’s voice, or feels his touch. But he can see Harry, the person who Louis once knew. He can see the green eyes and the crinkles by them when he smiles so wide. Louis can see his caramel skin and his curls. Louis is following Harry through a space where only Harry knows where to go. He’s leading them towards something. Harry is mouthing words to him which Louis tries to recognize. 

When they finally reach an end, Harry lets go of Louis’ hand. He smiles and runs somewhere. The place is full of flowers, Harry’s favourite flowers. They glow and sparkle. Everything sparkles around him, everything’s so beautiful. Louis hears an echoing laughter, a distant sound that he can’t quite grasp. But he hears it and he recognizes it immediately. He knows Harry is free now. 

 

Louis lays down slowly. He wraps himself inside his thick duvet. The light on the nightstand shines dimly, bringing safeness around him. Louis closes his eyes, taking in a few deep breaths. He can feel the exhaustion press his body against the bed, it makes him sink into sleep. 

 

“How was your day?” Harry asks in Louis’ dream. They are sitting in their home, in the living room. Everything is a little grey, like someone would’ve taken the deep shades out of this world. In this world everything is in pastel. Except Harry, who is alive. He doesn’t fit in this place with his dark curls and deep green eyes. He isn’t part of this world which is filled with some old memories and things that Louis’ subconscious likes to add to his normal life. 

Harry is here because he is here. He’s here because he promised to be here. 

 

“It was okay, I had dinner with some colleagues. But the whole day I just wanted to see you and hear your voice,” Louis tells honestly. He’s holding Harry’s hand in his, his thumb travelling across Harry’s wrist to feel his pulse point. The beating trembles lightly under Harry’s skin. 

“I’m here as long as you’re sleeping,” Harry tells Louis, his words making Louis fall deeper into the sleep. He falls into a sleep where he gets to spend time with Harry. A sleep where he can feel Harry. A sleep where he gets to love Harry the same way as when he was still here. He’s in a dream where Harry is real. He’s in a dream that feels more real than the life he’s living. A dream, where he can forget why he’s breathing. A dream, where he can live the life that he always wanted. 

Louis is in a dream, where everything is as beautiful as his life was, when Harry was still here. Breathing and living and laughing. A dream that he’ll remember because he can’t forget the moments he has with Harry. 

 

"So what's with the painting?" Harry asks curiously. 

"It just reminds me of something," Louis shrugs, knowing exactly what it reminds him of.

"Well what could that be," Harry smirks and tilts his head, giving Louis a playful look. 

"It reminds me of home, and you," Louis admits, the softness in his eyes like cotton candy. 

"It's beautiful, thank you," Harry scoots closer, his hand resting on Louis' thigh. 

"You don't feel like home here, in your new apartment?" Harry asks. As soon as the question is voiced between the two, it creates the walls of Louis' new apartment around them. All the furniture appear from nowhere, city lights and far away sounds streaming inside from the streets. Louis looks around them, trying to decide why he doesn't feel like this is his place. His space where he can be himself. 

"Something's missing," Louis whispers. Harry stands up beside him, reaching his hand out for Louis to take a hold of. Louis follows Harry into the bedroom. They stand in front of the painting. The room is dark, but when they enter, they bring light with them and it illuminates the beautiful shapes on the artwork. 

 

"You know what that reminds me of?" Harry asks quietly. He crawls on the bed and stands up, his hand coming to touch the uneven surface of the paint. 

"These are like our flowers during spring. Remember, the lilac ones. They bloom for such a short time but when they do, they calm you down immediately. Or these," Harry traces his hand towards the top of the painting. 

"These are like the clouds in summer, just fluff floating across the sky," Harry turns around and walks over to Louis. He sits down in front of Louis, pulling him closer between his legs. 

"Remember what it smelled like in our garden when all the flowers were blossoming? The sweet smell," Louis remembers it just when Harry mentions it. The scent floats around them and reminds them of the garden. Louis smiles down at Harry, his fingers entwining in Harry's curls. 

 

"I'm living in that garden, Louis. It's my favourite place and I chose to stay there," Harry says, his eyes filled with the seasons and their colour. He's like a flower himself. 

"And I can't wait for you to come there with me," Harry smiles. He pulls Louis down, his lips hovering over Louis'. Just as Louis is about to kiss him, the alarm clock rings. Louis takes in a deep breath, his eyes fluttering open. He shuts off the annoying sound that reminds of a new day.

 

The light of the dawn comes in through the bedroom windows. It's dark, with hints of light that the lamp on the bedside table mixes with. Louis stares at the ceiling, sorrow taking over his body. He didn't want to wake up, not yet. But here he is, and Harry isn't here with him. 

Louis sits up, stretching his arms over his head. He flexes his side muscles, his back cracking with the movement. He looks over his shoulder at the painting on the wall. His breath is taken away, it looks different. 

He can see the garden, it's in full bloom. The smell of the flowers wafts in the air, almost as if a summer breeze would bring the smell for him. He hears the echoing laughter in his head, tears prickling the corners of his eyes. 

Harry is here. He's in the garden. He's home. 

And Louis is at home with him.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading. I hope you enjoyed!  
> Feedback is always appreciated :)
> 
> You can also come say hi to me on tumblr: [sing-about-being-free](http://sing-about-being-free.tumblr.com/) (main) and  
> [AllTheseLittleWritings](http://alltheselittlewritings.tumblr.com/)
> 
> Also, the playlist for this fic is [here](http://alltheselittlewritings.tumblr.com/post/138175826145/set-my-spirit-free-playlist-kanye-west-street) :)


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